"I beg your pardon, Major Pierson," said Christy, who was standing at the wheel. "What am I to do now?"
"I will tell you in a moment.—Can you tell me, Dallberg, where the Bellevite is at the present time?" asked the major, turning to the lieutenant.
"She seems to be running up and down across the head of the bay. She is beyond that point now, and you will see her when you go within a mile of the land," replied the lieutenant.
"Have you been near her?"
"Not within a mile of her, I should say."
"All right, you may head her within a mile of that point, Captain Passford," added the major; and Christy rang to go ahead.
When the major applied this high-sounding title to the new captain, the lieutenant opened his eyes a little; but he asked no questions, for he had learned as he came on board that Captain Pecklar had fainted at his post.
"Well, what have you been about, Dallberg?" asked the major rather impatiently, as soon as the boat was under way again.
"Walking, talking, and rowing most of the time. As the poet says, 'Things are not what they seem,'" replied the scout; for such appeared to be the duty in which he had been engaged.
"What do you mean by that?" asked Major Pierson, opening his eyes very wide.